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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658920">Expectations and Realities</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23'>Blink23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Victoria (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Minor Character Death, Only Edward Drummond can call Alfred Alfie, Sharing a Bath, True Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:54:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658920</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Drummond sees a gun pulled… and doesn’t move, his thoughts too consumed with the man he loves, instead of a broken engagement and the disappointment of his parents. </p><p>Instead of himself, he ends up watching his mentor bleed out on the pavement in front of him, horrified.</p><p>Good thing he has someone to help pick up the pieces.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Drummond (1792-1843)/Alfred Paget (1816-1888)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Expectations and Realities</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know I'm far, far too late to this fandom but rewatched the whole damn series in quarantine and they wouldn't leave me alone because they deserved so much better. You can thank my boyfriend's heterosexual insistence that Drummond 'wouldn't jump in front of a Tan who's been working him like a dog when he had a hot piece of arse like Alfred at home.'  </p><p>I am thinking of writing some more of this, where Peel is dead and there's a power struggle in Parliament, but we'll see how this goes over first.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a flurry of movement about the palace when Alfred manages to drag himself home, despondent and soaked from the downpour. He had never been one to dwell when one of his dalliances ended, but he couldn’t help the melancholy that seemed to wrap him up. He supposes it’s because he knows, ultimately, he was at fault; he had all but told him to leave him, in a fit of foolishness. Edward was serious about him, and he had to go muck it up.</p><p>Alfred wonders if he should ask after whatever has the servants rattled-- doesn’t care, really, but the distraction might be worth it -- until he enters his chambers and finds Edward on the settee in his sitting room. His heart soars and plummets all at once.</p><p>“How did you get in? If anyone saw you, We’re-”</p><p>“Peel's gone,” Edward says, sounding almost catatonic, “he-- there was someone… with a gun, and-”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“Peel's dead,” Edward says, flexing his fingers. Alfred is alarmed to realize that the cuffs of his coat and shirtsleeves are ringed in dark blood, “He was… one second he was there, and the next I was - <i>he was right there</i>-”</p><p>Alfred can scarcely believe it.</p><p> “He's dead? You are sure?”</p><p>Edward nods, his eyes wide, unseeing. The hectic scene when he arrived home suddenly makes sense.</p><p>“I came to tell her majesty. And I saw one of the pages and asked after you… I figured you’d be cross for me being in your apartments but I didn’t want to wait until morning.”</p><p>“Edward…”</p><p>“You don't owe me anything, but I didn't... I had to...”</p><p>He won’t look at Alfred.</p><p>“Darling,” Alfred says, and finally he looks up, “You must be cleaned up. You look a fright, and it's no way to present yourself.”</p><p>“I… I need to go home.”</p><p>He stands on shaking legs, and Alfred lurches forward, incase he crumbles to his knees.</p><p>“I will ride with you to Downing Street, at least.”</p><p>“Not… Mayfair, will be better,” Edward shakes his head, “I… You do not need to worry about me, Alfie. I’m sure the queen needs-”</p><p>“Edward,” Alfred says, “She will understand. She knows we are friends. I will go home with you, and make sure things are taken care of.”</p><p>Edward looks up at him, and something in him seems to see Alfred for the first time; his posture deflates, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. </p><p>“I missed our dinner,” He croaks out, his knees buckling to the floor, “I forgot and I-”</p><p>He begins to sob, and finally Alfred gathers him into his arms, pressing kisses to his hair and murmuring nonsense to him as they rock in a heap on the floor. </p><p>“I so wanted to make it, you must be angry at me for missing-”</p><p>“To hell with the dinner, there is nothing I care less about at this moment than oysters,” he scoffs, “I only care that you are alive and in my arms when there was a madman brandishing a gun at you only a few hours ago. We need for you to go home, have a bath, and maybe a very large brandy.” </p><p>“You will come with?”</p><p>“I said I would, did I not?” </p><p>Edward just sniffles in response.</p><p>“Come on, my love,” Alfred tips his chin up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Let’s go home.”</p><p>The Palace is in such a buzz that no one notices them slip out and into carriage, hand in hand. Alfred is a little shocked when instead of giving the driver his address, Edward tells him to take them to 42 Grosvenor Place, but he doesn’t disagree. It is not the first time they have been with each other like this, spiriting away to the house. Everyone knows Alfred technically lives at the palace, not at his family home; the maids and washerwomen only come to the house once or twice a week to keep the place from utter disarray, otherwise it sits empty. It is perfect for the type of rendezvous they have. </p><p>And, if he’s honest with himself, something warms at the thought of Edward considering Alfred’s own house home.</p><p>“Not Mayfair?”</p><p>Edward shakes his head.</p><p>“My parents will be in the city in three days' time. There’s staff there to prepare and I don't think I can find it in me to be away from you tonight, even if it is down the hall.”</p><p>Alfred hums in agreement, kissing his palm.</p><p>When they arrive they bound up the stairs and into Alfred’s suite immediately, not even bothering with the rest of the house. The furniture is still covered with protective sheets but Edward doesn’t pay any mind, stripping out of his bloodied coat and tossing it away onto the rug, tugging everything else off as he heads to the en suite. Alfred’s mother had insisted he add one of the water heating contraptions that are becoming popular when the house had been remodeled the previous year to add the bathing rooms and water closets, and in that moment he was thankful for it.</p><p>Alfred doesn’t follow him, not knowing if he’d like his space or not. Instead, he begins to remove the white sheets covering the furniture, balling them up and tossing them into a corner, and opening the curtains of his four post bed. He removes his coat, then his cravat and waistcoat, hanging them in his wardrobe with their shared spare clothing. </p><p>There’s also enough wood to start a fire in the grate, something they had left last time they had one of their encounters. As soon as the room is warm and lit due to Alfred’s handwork, he hears the water turn off and Edward calling for him.</p><p>“Darling?”</p><p>Alfred returns to the room and stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Edward, leaning over the edge of the tub, his chin in hand, waiting for him.</p><p>“Join me?”</p><p>He can’t say no.</p><p>Alfred sinks in behind him after he removes the last of his clothes. They both help each other wash, giggling at the intimacy of it, soaping up between kisses and rinsing with clean water from the tap. The full soaking bath is a luxury to even men of their standing, and they don’t do much of anything but lie there after, enjoying the steam and the warmth of the water, Edward cradled in between his thighs and almost asleep against his chest.</p><p>“Come on, Ed,” Alfred finally murmurs after his skin prunes, “Time for bed.”</p><p>They dry off but don’t dress, instead curling up in Alfred’s bed straight from the bath, hair still damp. Edward is so clearly exhausted, but sleep doesn’t come for him, and Alfred can do nothing but watch his darling boy’s eyes grow more tired.</p><p>Finally, after what feels like an hour of the rain beating on the windows and the fire in the hearth, Edward breaks the silence.

</p><p>“I could have-”</p><p>“No, my love,” Alfred kisses his still wet curls, “You couldn’t have thought of it.”</p><p>“I wanted to, in that split second. I wanted to throw myself in front of the bullet,” Edward says, fierce and honest. </p><p>The breath stutters in Alfred’s chest.</p><p>“I thought of my engagement, of the meeting with my parents I planned to have to tell them I intended to break it off, and then of you, and… I do not know. I froze. </p><p>“I can only think of how you would be informed. Would anyone even bother to tell you? Would you read it in tomorrow’s morning paper, where it would no doubt be sensationalized? Would you have to sit in a pew while they gave my eulogy without anyone to comfort you? Would you be allowed to mourn me as she would, when you deserved it more?”</p><p>Alfred didn’t need to say anything. They both knew the answer.</p><p>“I… How do I think of you, and not my fiancée? How?” Edward presses his face to Alfred’s chest, “How could I care more deeply about you having to press on without me over her? You must understand that I have to end it.”</p><p>“Edward…”</p><p>“I cannot marry her, my love. I <i>can’t.</i> I don’t care how painful it will be to break it. I don’t detest her, but I truly do not care for her at all. Not even before I fell in love with you. I was purely business. I know you are concerned, but I know I won’t be able to do that to both you and her.”</p><p>Alfred is silent. </p><p>“I am making the right choice, Alfred,” Edward insisted, “I would choose you everytime. My life is too short for anything but you to be the center of it.”</p><p>“I just don’t know if you understand just how things will change.”</p><p>Edward pulled away to look at Alfred, indignant. </p><p>“But only for the better!”</p><p>Alfred sighs, his fingers threaded through Edward’s hair as he mulls it over.</p><p>“We will have to be even more careful than we are now,” Alfred finally says, “More than you might know how to be.”</p><p>“I am not stupid.”</p><p>“But you are an open book, dearheart,” Edward scoffs, “You are, Ed. You wear that magnificent heart on your sleeve. I know there are people that suspect already. All it takes is a servant with a big mouth or a spurned MP angry at your position on some Bill to go to Scotland Yard and we are done for. I wasn’t… entirely comfortable with this continuing while you were married, but it held a certain amount of protection for us we will no longer have. You’ll have to school yourself to not even look at me, at times. We will have to go weeks without seeing each other when we are busy, and act like it doesn’t make us mad from loneliness.” </p><p>“Are you not willing to do it for love?”</p><p>Alfred kisses him.</p><p>“I’m willing to do anything to see you happy with me, my love. Having you is one of the only things that keeps me going at times. The thought of you with that woman, having to allow her to hold you and make love to you when I know it is me you want, I can’t… it’s just…”</p><p>“... repulsive?”</p><p>“I was going to be gentler in my phrasing but…” Alfred chuckles, “I am yours and you are mine alone. I am just… I don’t want to be anything but realistic. The ecstasy of having each other will be coupled with the anxiety of having to hide. Not to mention you’ll have to go through the balls and dinners and tea invitations all over again, until we are old enough to be declared hopeless bachelors.”</p><p> Now Edward scoffed at him.</p><p>“I will look like a cad who spurned a good woman to run about London unattached, I highly doubt my dance card will be full anytime soon.”</p><p>Alfred rolls his eyes, “You will not be the one that comes out looking disagreeable in all this, she will. We both know this. The women will be all over you, practically begging for it,” then puts on voices higher than his own, “‘Edward Drummund, is he not just heavenly? He served the Prime Minister. He’s on £15,000 a year, with a home in Mayfair.’ ‘No, you heard wrong, it’s £25,000, and he has a home in Mayfair and an estate in Scotland! What a dream, with those curls and those eyes-’”</p><p>“ I get it, Alfred-”</p><p>“And those arms and that perfect arse-”</p><p>“That would never-”</p><p> “And I’d do anything to have that big, beautiful co-”</p><p>“Alfie!” he yelps, interrupting him, and Alfred giggles. Edward pokes him in the side, where he knows he’s ticklish.</p><p>“I like it when you call me that.”</p><p>Edward’s cheeks go red, and he presses a gentle kiss to Alfred’s lips.</p><p>“I like using it. I like having something only I get to call you, even in public. Amongst friends, they don’t think anything of it, but we know what it means.”</p><p>Alfred shook his head, feeling like his heart would burst.</p><p>“You’re a dream. I don’t know how you weren’t pulled from a bloody Jane Austen novel.”</p><p>“Maybe if Darcy and Bingley were the ones sharing a bed, darling. You'd be Bingley of course; he was my favorite.”</p><p>Alfred makes a face.</p><p>“What a bore you are.”</p><p>Edward laughs but it quickly turns into a yawn. Alfred pulls him in closer, pressing his head under his chin.</p><p>“Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be here in the morning.”</p><p>Edward’s eyes close, a smile still on his face.</p><p>“You will be, won’t you?”</p><p><i>And so will you, thank God,</i> Alfred thinks, but doesn’t say.</p>
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